Three Hours Earlier
by FlyWithBethany
Summary: Set after Season Five. If Sam never came back, what would become of Dean? Story is in three parts, this is the first. Stick with me guys, I'm writing this as fast as I can. Warnings to come.
1. Chapter 1

This is set after Season Five. If Sam never came back, how would Dean cope? This is in three parts so stick around! Next part should be up tomorrow because it's being written now. Warnings to come! Enjoy ^^

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**Three Hours Earlier**

The warehouse stood alone. The surrounding area covered in rusty iron slats and old car pieces. No one came here; this was obvious by the lack of road leading towards the derelict building. Instead, any driver wishing to risk his cars life would have to make his own tracks through the field. This was exactly what Dean Winchester was doing. His beloved baby was grinding her way through the mud and grass, the occasional metal piece flying up from beneath her wheels, making Dean wince and talk softly to her. He couldn't go back now, aside from the fact he'd made it three quarters of the way across the field, this was the only lead he'd had in four years and he'd die before he missed it.

It's been four years since the Apocalypse. Four years since Lucifer took Sam down with him. Four years since Dean felt any emotion other than pain. Dean had tried everything. No crossroads demon would deal with him, the angels had fled back to heaven and praying to Castiel wasn't an option anymore. The angel had made it clear he was never coming back and Dean had long since tried to contact him. Cas was gone, taking what was left of Dean's heart with him. The first year had housed the most pain. Dean had first been staying with Bobby who, god love him, had tried his hardest to pick him up. But it was too late, Sam's death had affected Dean far too much and the void he was in could not be touched. Cas was the only constant in his life and after he left Dean shut down completely. Bobby tried and tried until it finally got too much, he told Dean to go and get back into hunting and he gave him jobs and leads any chance he got. He needed the boy to be out there and not have to come home to him passed out on the couch everyday, alcohol stained and exhausted. Dean knew Bobby was worried about him, he was worried about himself but he had nothing to live for anymore. Still, he took the cases he was given, he followed the leads up. He didn't know how long he could stand it though, knocking on a stranger's door without his brother beside him. Only having to create one fake ID and only needing one suit dry-cleaned. It was rare if Dean made it one day without wanting to scream. Scream for Sam, scream for his pain, scream for Cas to get his ass back down and hold him again. Instead he drowned his pain in alcohol, downing shot after shot in shady bars, not making eye contact with anyone. He slept in the car because he couldn't deal with only asking for one bed, he tried to ask for two once but waking up and seeing an empty bed was worse than seeing no bed at all. He left not long after that, vowing to sleep in his car from now on. It was uncomfortable and meant waking up with stiff muscles everyday but he didn't care, not anymore. It had been like this that Dean had been living for the past four years. Hunting without caring was something he was used to now and he usually took his time getting to and from places, what's the rush? People died all the time.

Three hours ago, everything changed. Dean was driving down a deserted road, these were his favourite, he could do what he liked and no one could stop him. If he crashed, well, who cares? His phone lit up, Led Zeppelin blaring out, scaring him for a second. He pulled over, answering much too late, only to find out it was Bobby. Dean cursed mentally, sometimes the man needed to take a break.

"Dean, listen to me. I might have a lead for you."

Dean stopped breathing, "You…a what?"

"Yeah, for real, Crowley's here…."

Dean frowned slightly, why was Crowley at Bobby's? Better yet, why was Bobby listening to him?

"Are you even listening! Ow..fuck, what are you…?"

Dean was completely confused, he felt like he was being drunk dialled by Bobby. This wouldn't be the first time.

"Dean, it's Crowley. Listen to me, I know I haven't been any help in the past four years but, men gotta work right. And damn it have I been busy, you should see France, I'll take you one day, beautiful place. Anyhoo, there's a demon called Pyro I think you might like to meet…."

Crowley went on to tell Dean where he'd be and when but he barely listened. He had a lead, a lead for Sammy. This could be it and fuck did he drive.

So it was this that led to his baby churning her way through mud and upon reaching the other side and seeing the mess he almost regretted it. She could handle it though, he knew this, she was tough as nails and a bit of mud is like a spa treatment for her. That's what Dean told himself anyway, when he glanced sadly at his beat up car. "For Sammy" he though, before heading towards the warehouse doors. His heart was beating far too fast and he was afraid it would crash through his rib cage if he didn't take a minute. He stopped just outside the door and pressed his ear up against it. If his lifetime of hunting had taught him anything – it's to always try and judge what you're going into before you charge in. Silence was all he could hear and where demon's were concerned this wasn't a good sign. He placed his hand on the handle and slowly began opening the door, taking a deep breath he stepped inside. Adjusting his eyes to dark he just had time to see a rather large elbow heading his way, there was no time to move as it connected with his head, he crumbled to the floor with just enough time to think, "Shit" then he was out.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'll put them at the bottom. I struggled with this part, so i'm sorry.

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**Two Hours Earlier**

Dean woke up with his back to a pole and his hands cuffed around it. Well, he thought bitterly, at least his legs were free. There was a time when he'd be worried about the fact he was hand cuffed, rather than tied, at this moment he was past worrying. He just needed the thing that cuffed him in the first place. Glancing round he noted that although he was still in the warehouse, the inside décor was much nicer than outside. There were kitchen appliances in one corner and an armchair near what was obviously once a fire. It looked as though someone had made a home here or a hideout. Or perhaps this was all a set up for him. Dean sat and waited (not like he could do anything else), wondering why he'd been left alone – for this wasn't normal demon behaviour. Although he knew he could pick the lock on the handcuffs he chose not to. He wanted to see what would happen.

He'd been so bust studying the room he hadn't noticed that the once empty armchair now contained a man. A man with white blond hair that looked out of place in the derelict warehouse. A man with such black eyes other demons dare not look too deep into them, for fear of being sucked in. A man that was no longer human but instead was evil itself. The man sat and watched as Dean Winchester did nothing, he'd expected an escape plan from the boy. He'd wanted to see Dean run, only so he could chase after him, there was nothing this demon loved more than a chase. But instead Dean sat and waited, confusion gripped the demon. Why wasn't he doing anything, why was he allowing himself to be in this situation? Was Dean Winchester as broken as the rumours told him he was?

A coughing to his left brought Dean from his thoughts. Whipping his head around his gaze focused on the blond haired demon, frowning slightly when he saw the look the he was giving him.

"What?" he growled, probably harsher than was necessary?

"Why are you just sitting there?" the demon asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I'm waiting for my knight in shining armour" Dean quipped. Surprised at his first joke in four years, he laughed and although it sounded strange coming from his mouth, he felt slightly okay for a few moments.

"Really? Because last I heard he'd hop footed it back to heaven and left you" the demon smirked and Dean's mood sunk into the ground along with his stomach.

"Fuck off" he tried to snarl but it came out as more of a whisper, Dean hated feeling this weak but he just didn't have it in him to fight.

"Touchy. I'm just stating the obvious. You, Dean Winchester, are alone. You have been for years now and you know something, it can't be fixed."

Dean's eyes flicked up. He'd came here for a reason, had it just been shattered?

"What do you mean?"

The demon paced slowly around him, his eyes flicking across Dean's face.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, it's hardly a secret why you're here. Every demon in existence knows you've been looking for an answer for four years. Why do you think you've practically been left alone? No demon wanted to see you Dean. No demon was brave enough to cross you because they knew you'd never stop until you got an answer out of them. The things you learnt in hell, they know everything and they know you wouldn't hesitate to use them. So well done Dean, even demons are scared of you now."

Dean felt sick. He'd thought the demon's had fled back to hell, like the angels running back to heaven. Instead, they'd been scared of him. He closed his eyes, trying to comprehend how much he'd changed. Loss had affected him much more than he'd thought and it was now, being faced with a truth he never thought was possible, that he began to fear himself.

"Who are you?" he questioned his voice small and un-Dean like.

The demon blinked, as though not expecting the question. Whether he thought Dean knew who he was or he wasn't used to being asked was unclear. He walked closer to Dean and knelt down. He was close enough to his head that he wasn't in fear of being kicked but far enough away that Dean couldn't head butt him on reflex.

"I'm Pyro" he stated eventually, "I am the prince of falsehoods and lies", his face smug as he was obviously proud of his title.

Dean felt his stomach heave but vowed not to be sick in front of the demon, or rather, _prince_. A chuckle erupted from Pyro's mouth - he was enjoying this more than he should.

"What? Are you shocked? Did Crowley not tell you that? He is, as you know, the king of hell, I assumed he'd have the decency to tell of his princes. Bastard. You should be honoured Dean, you've met both the king and a prince. I don't know anyone else who's this connected to hell."

"I don't want to be connected to hell. I don't want to ever think about hell again. I just want Sam back and I can't do that without a dick's help. According to Crowley, the dick that can help me is you. So fucking do it, bring Sam back, it's all I'm asking."

Dean couldn't stand being this desperate, he sounded weak and pathetic and he knew it. But he was prepared to do anything to save Sam, he needed his brother to be safe and out of cage. _He had to save Sammy._

Pyro looked at him. His black eyes flickering with an emotion Dean couldn't put his finger on. The demon shifted nervously, ducking his head slightly in thought. After what seemed like eternity, he fixed his gaze back on Dean's and moved slightly closer, his brow furrowed in what looked like pity.

"I can't Dean", he answered finally, his voice low.

"W-what?" was all that fell out of Dean's mouth, he'd almost stopped breathing.

"I can't. I'm only a prince Dean. In hell that hardly means anything, basically it means you're a tiny bit higher than other demon's but no where near as high as the king. There are tons of princes, for every sin you've ever thought of but we're nothing more than regular demons and a regular demon, or any demon for that matter, cannot get into that cage. It's impossible; we can't even get near it, never mind open it and only pull out a soul. It can't be done."

"Have you fucking tried? It's a cage not a black hole, go and try"

"Dean. Demons cannot get near it, at all. Believe me they've tried, we all want Lucifer out. Without him, hell is engaged in a civil war much like heaven right now, but whatever the cage is made out of is like a demon repellent. The only option we'd have is to break all the seals again, which would also set Michael free and the whole fucking apocalypse would start again. So unless you want to start another apocalypse which would be ten times worse than the last, I can't help you".

Dean couldn't help it then; he vomited up everything he could, his eyes so blurry he was afraid he'd never see again. He felt dizzy and hot with the words overflowing in his brain but never falling out of his mouth.

"Dean…" Pyro whispered, he hated to admit it but he couldn't help but feel for him. Pyro had lost people throughout his life however he was no where near as shattered as Dean, even if he was a demon.

Dean lifted his head and met his eyes with Pyro's. Tears fell uncontrollably from his eyes, his lips quivered as he tried to speak.

"Let me go" he managed to choke out not able to stop the sob that followed it.

Pyro didn't hesitate; he reached behind Dean and undid the handcuffs, sliding them off Dean's wrists. He stayed sat on the floor as Dean shakily stood up. He watched as he stumbled towards the door and heard the broken cries that came from the once so strong man. Dean reached the door and threw it open; reaching for his car keys he stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Pyro stayed on the floor watching the door bounce on its hinges. After seeing what had become of Dean Winchester he couldn't help but think, "_Have I just torn him apart_?"

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A/N: Hey guys. Okay. I really struggled with this part. I've known how it was going to end since the start but I couldn't get this part to work probably. In fact, I'm not even sure it works now and to me it sounds really rushed. I'm sorry, I just wanted to get this part out so I can do the end. There's only one part left now. Love you.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I added a warning but in case you didn't see new warning is 'character death'.

So I wrote this and really depressed myself. I'm sorry. I had the idea for the end and therefore had to build something around it, ergo: you got a three part fic.

I have a lovely idea for my next fic which I'll be writing in April, so please stick around, it'll be really cute and nothing like this, I promise.

Please let me know what you thought, it was hard to write this but I did it and I'm proud of myself for coming through this. Like I said, this was really hard to write for me. I love you.

A/N 2 – HOLYMOTHEROFGOD. Wtf has this website been doing. It's only just started working for me. I am so sorry, I've been trying everyday. Did everyone get that error message that kept coming up. I felt like crying EVERY time. I'm so sorry. You may want to reread parts ½ because it's been ages. I'M SORRY. I LOVE YOU.

**One Hour Earlier**

Dean doesn't remember climbing into his car and driving. He doesn't remember pulling up next to a forest and he definitely doesn't remember starting a fire that burned as high as the flames in hell. He did though. He did all that. Dean's brain shutdown the minute Pyro told him the truth, the truth he'd been so afraid of for four years. As Dean stood and watched half the forest burn, the branches cracking under the searing heat he raised his head towards the sky. It was filled with smoke but he could make out the stars above. The sparkling, happy stars he'd once shared with Sam. All those moments they sat on the Impala hood came flooding back to him. When they gazed at the stars, never speaking; never needing to, just being in each other presence filled the silence. Looking at them now, burning brightly with no idea what was going through the once so fearless boy, Dean couldn't stop himself. He screamed louder than ever before, pouring all his emotion into his voice. He felt his throat burning but took the pain gladly. He cursed the stars, the earth, God, the angels, demons, his mother and father but most importantly, himself. He couldn't help it; he'd spent the last four years wishing he could have had the guts to tell Sam not to say yes. If only he'd told him he wouldn't be able to do it, Sam would have argued more than ever but at least he'd still be alive. Dean continued to roar as a never ending flow of tears fell down his face, the flashes from the fire hardly affecting him, he could barely hear the noise anyway. He thought back to when hunting was easy; to when the hardest thing they had to deal with was picking a job. _'Saving people, hunting things. Family business'_. Dean's mind screamed – the sound ricocheting off his skull and smashing against his brain. That was the Winchester motto, the one that kept them going and the phrase that stopped them giving into the life. But towards the end this motto was forgotten, how could they be expected to save other people when they had to save themselves so often. Hunts became the angels work, killing demon's was for their own gain and not for that of its person it possessed. Sure, they saved people still but they became so focused on how to stop the apocalypse that smaller jobs became less frequent. It just wasn't something they could do anymore without the fear of bringing a whole army of demons to a small town that was only affected by one witch. They'd figured together that after the apocalypse they could start again with the small jobs, go back to their old ways before life got too rough. But Sam had died to save the world and Dean was alone. After thinking this Dean calmed slightly, his throat burning from screaming and his lungs crying out for fresh oxygen that wasn't smoke infused. He moved slowly towards his car, opened the door and sat down. Starting the engine he glanced at the fire, parts of it were dying out where the trees were curling up from the heat they withstood. He didn't smile but a sense of pride took over him, he did this. He destroyed something that was beautiful. Without another thought he took off, driving back towards the town where he'd seen a motel earlier, he finally knew how to fix all this.

**Now**

Years from now hunters would tell the story of the Winchesters. They'd change it round and stories would get misinterpreted but one fact would always remain the same: Sam and Dean Winchester would do anything for each other. No matter the price or the immensity of it, they'd fight for each other till their deaths and it was this that made them what they were - brothers never to be parted.

In a shady motel in the middle of nowhere, in room 66 at the back of the complex, a shower was running. This, in itself, was normal, people took showers all the time. But this was different, this shower had been running for thirty minutes and showed no signs of stopping. In the shower sat a boy, the correct word should really be man – for he was in his late twenties. However, the man inside him was broken beyond repair and he'd resorted to a childhood past of his. Whenever things got tough Dean Winchester would turn the shower on and sit in it fully clothed. He'd let the shower drench his clothes and spray all over his face. It was a release for him; a way of shutting out the world for a while. This time was a little different though. For in the past he'd eventually shut off the water and step out, ready to face the world. Not this time. His eyes were closed and his head rolled slightly to the left, his shallow breathing all that was indicating he was still alive. He smiled gently, his last source of energy put into raising his cheeks, "_I'm coming Sammy_" he thought quietly as he let out his final breath. The water kept on hitting his body, the clearness mixing with the red liquid pouring from his arms and bouncing off the knife that lay softly in his left hand. _Sam's knife. _


End file.
